Negotiations Part 2

(Joe, no clothes on in the kitchen):

MommEEEEEEEEEEE, you DRESS ME!

Joe, I'll give you 5 gummies, go get dressed.

MOMMMMEEEEEE!  You get me DRESSED!

(Under so much stress, Joe passes gas)

Mommy, you hear dat?  Dat my bum sayin' "Get me dressed, please".

Joe, how about 5 gummies and a glass of chocolate milk?

(Joe scatters off down the hallway with a whisper... "chocolate milk!")

Score:
Mama = 1
Bum = 0

Happy Birthday Mom!

A day late, but you know we love you!

Dear Health Unlimited,

You have been so good to me over the past 6 months, allowing me to exercise for a healthy body while your delightful Kids Club employees watch my cherubs.  Why, Health Unlimited, WHY must you not provide childcare from 1-4:30pm?  WHY?  This is a crucial time for this Mama; a time that would be used wisely for a Mama to get out the frustrations of a morning with cherubs while someone else can love and cherish her delightful wee ones for two hours.  Why?  Why?  Why?

Much Love,
This Mama

This Is What Happens

when a little girl gets angry and tries to show her mama who is boss...

Yes, that is the contents of our van, pilfered Grinch-like; even the pennies are scattered about the garage floor.  Note the smile on the little girl's face.

I found out today that a young mom-friend of mine has a 99% chance she has bone cancer.  The doctor told her today that if it is bone cancer (1% chance it's not, my friends), her life will be changing drastically.

I recently gave a car seat to a mom I know because she is unsure of where her kids will be on a daily basis while she goes to oncologist appointments and obgyn appointments.  She found out within the same week this past November that she was pregnant with her third child and was diagnosed with breast cancer.  The docs are being careful, she prays that her baby will live.

I guess having the contents of the van vomited onto the garage floor is no big whoop.  Not that I should allow these monkeys to run rampant, but damn, the lives of others around me can really put things into perspective.

Know what I mean?

Watering Worms

When one can't convince a young lady that we need to walk to the end of the driveway to get her brother off the bus, one must be creative.

It was time to give the worms some water cause that is an important job in this household.

If you are wondering "How does one water worms?", we have a little girl here to demonstrate...and so we begin with:

1. a BIIIG slurp of water

2. swish it around in your mouth, get it nice and...well, whatever

3. start to dribble a little water out, test out your force, get a feel for your own watering power

4. give it a good blow, don't be shy, we are talking about watering WORMS here people

5. be sure to never move your feet from ballet first position please

6. take pride in your work, revel in your accomplishment

I can hear the worms applauding in their worm-like-celebratory-way.  Way to go, Little One.  This may make up for all the times you have swung worms around and around until they are stretched out to three-times their normal length. Or the times you piled worms in the baby stroller and wheeled them around the yard (at least you have learned to add some soil so they don't get "too sleepy to wiggle, Mommy!").  Or the times when you have left them floating in a pail of water (lesson learned: worms don't like to swim, but they do like a watering every once and awhile).

This one is dedicated to all the worms in the world...without you all, our soil would be as hard as rocks and Little One would be pretty sad (and bored) on a sunny, warm day.

vintage fleece Strawberry Shortcake dress by Peggy Brooks Loyd for Rachel Jean Loyd circa 2004

fleece tye dye poncho by Maxine Loyd for Julie B. circa Christmas 2011

golden shoes from some thrift store

Whimpers For My Way

She sniffles and whimpers, I know the tears are wetting her pillow - it crushes my heart but it is all because she didn't get her way.

So I reflect upon that...each whimper I imagine her saying "I didn't get my way" instead of thinking about what would make my heart hurt -
                                                   whimper for hunger
                                                   whimper for pain
                                                   whimper for neglect
                                                   whimper for shame

I feel confident that how I am handling this situation is correct - the wants of a two year old can not run our household - having confidence doesn't mean that it's easy, no sir.

Paper Trails

It's a mid-winter day like today that can help in getting us through to spring...

clear blue skies,

a bit of a warm breeze,

taking a deep breath without freezing nose-hairs.

Joe stood in awe of the sky today,

head tilted up, slowly turning in a circle to see

the full view. (Although he did NOT want his picture taken.)

Joe: (said with a soft whisper) Mommy, yook.  So many paper trails in da sky.

Such a brilliant, innocent boy, this child of mine.

Tiaras and Butterfly Kisses

My girl, she is sweet, truly, most of the time.  Recently she has been somewhat of a monster, so when she is in a sweet mood I try to soak up as much of the joy as I can.  The girl just glided up to me, placed a tiara on my head and proclaimed "Mommy you soooooo bufull wif dat tortilla!"  With that, she leaned down, placed her soft-as-soft cheek next to mine and said "Mommy, I give you a butt kiss" as she fluttered her little wee eyeball at me.

This girl, monster that she can be, I love.

A Letter of Graditude

Dear Garlic Press,
Where have you been all my life? I have purchased pre-chopped garlic, used garlic powder, peel and hand-chopped garlic, and gone without garlic due to pure laziness.  Today, my life has changed.  While making a pot of chili this evening, I cracked open the box-o-Good-Grips kitchen utensils that Paul gave me for Christmas.  Garlic press, you glittered and shimmered in your newness, calling to me to finally use you.  I now understand your greatness, garlic press; I am truly grateful for how easy you have made my life.

Sincerely,
Peggy

P.S. Paul, you ROCK!

Santa Drives a Toyota Tercel

It looked something like this one.

Driving home from Mom and dad's Christmas Eve, I approached an older model Toyota Tercel on my right.  Outside the window rested an arm clad in red velvet with white fur trim.  As I got closer, I realized it was the big man himself, beard, hat and all.  I slowed to match his pace and giggled to the kids "LOOK, it's SANTA!" 

Joe: whAT?!
Julie: Santa drive a CAR?
Joe: Where him GOING?  Look him WAVING!
Julie (waving and jiggling around as much as a 5 point harness will allow) HI SANTA! hi SANTA!!

I slowed a little more so Santa was next to the passenger side window.  I made the sign for thank you as I exaggerated saying it with my lips.  He nodded seriously, mouthing "Your welcome" then cracked a huge smile while saying "MERRY CHRISTMAS!".

Ahhh, the magic of Christmas, right there on route 81 south.  Not only did the kids get to see the big man chillin' in his hooptie before his big ride that night, but more importantly we were able to share some simple joy with another...that's livin'.